


Need-to-Know

by Theoroark



Series: FemslashFest 2017 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Jewish Sombra, Jewish Widowmaker, Sombra baking and Widow drinking, pasts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 18:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13013391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Day Two:BalanceSpiderbyte dealing with how much they know, and don't know, about each others' pasts.





	Need-to-Know

**Author's Note:**

> I named Alejandra's mom Patricia in an earlier fic, and I realize I've been using it for her without explanation since. So, when Sombra talks about Patricia, that's Alejandra Sr.

“…and I can make french toast with it too,” Sombra said. Widowmaker nodded, content to listen to her girlfriend ramble and watch her roll out the dough. “Ooh, I can make you breakfast in bed. That should win me a lot of points.”

 

“Mhm,” Widow said, taking a sip of her wine. Sombra made a face.

 

“Come on. You gotta love french toast. It’s right there in the name.”

 

“Of course I do, mon écureuil d'amour.” Sombra flicked some flour at her and she wrinkled her nose and ceased her teasing. Sombra grinned in triumph before turning her attention to the task at hand.

 

It was strange to see Sombra so focused, Widow thought as she watched her braid the ropes of dough together. Usually, she was doing at least two things at once. Hacking while shooting. Flirting with some Omnic while copying their hard drive. Making out while monitoring her surveillance feeds. A more emotional person than Widow would be a bit put out that Sombra could be more devoted to bread than she was to hooking up.

 

“You’re good at that,” she said. Sombra looked up quickly, startled out of her reverie. She blinked, but then her face got all soft like it did whenever Widow said something nice to her. Widow took a long drink of wine.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Where did you learn to bake?”

 

Sombra’s face lost its softness immediately. She didn’t get angry, Sombra hated people seeing her get angry almost as much as she loved making people angry. But there was a stony neutrality that Sombra had perfected that seemed far more threatening.

 

“Around,” she said. Widow looked down at her glass. Sombra’s not-anger came up the most the few times Widow had stumbled up against her past.

 

“I never baked much,” Widow said conversationally. Sombra nodded and ducked down to rummage through the cabinets. “Or cooked at all, really. I did one of those pre-proportioned ingredient delivery services for a bit. But I still would end up just ordering takeout sometimes.”

 

“And I mean, you were a ballerina,” Sombra said. She popped back up and Widow was relieved to see that her face had lost some of its hardness. “I know they can be pricks about food.”

 

“They were awful,” Widow said. “I imagine wherever you learned to bake, they had a much better meal plan.”

 

Sombra leaned against the counter. Her flop of purple hair fell over her face, but Widow did not particularly need to have it in her sight to know her reaction.

 

“I get your point,” Sombra said.

 

“I don’t begrudge you reading my file. I would have done the same. But I think there’s at least some things you could tell me.”

 

“I said I got it,” Sombra snapped. She lifted her head up and ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s just different,” she said after a pause.

 

“How?”

 

“You may not have my file, but you have the newspapers,” Sombra said. “You only started seeing Sombra show up there in the past few years, didn’t you?” Widow nodded. “Well, that covers all the important work I’ve done. And we came into Talon at around the same time. And we’ve worked together pretty closely here. You know pretty much everything about Sombra. Do you need to know more than that?”

 

“I don’t know,” Widow said. “What’s it like, knowing Amélie?”

 

Sombra stared at her braided loaves of bread for a moment, then picked up a roll of parchment paper and lined the baking sheet. She placed the challah on it and gently covered it with a flowered dishcloth, and then she finally looked up and met Widow’s eyes.

 

“There was a family in Dorado that owned a bakery,” she said. Her voice was a bit hoarse but she did not look away. “They fed a lot of the orphans from the crisis. They liked me a lot. Let me stay with them some times. I helped out around the shop. That’s where I learned.”

 

“Okay,” Widow said. “That’s nice.” Sombra nodded. The she jolted out of the kitchen to her couch. She sat down and folded in on herself and Widow stared, completely at a loss for what to do, before slowly standing up and walking over to her.

 

“Sombra?” Sombra took a deep, shuddering breath and Widow hovered awkwardly above her. “I don’t understand.”

 

“You could find me so easily with that,” she said. She was speaking quickly and her voice shook. “You would just have to ask around. And they protect me in Dorado but you could make them talk. You can know now. I told you. And I don’t even know why I told you.”

 

“Sombra.” Sombra did not move as Widow sat down next to her. “Sombra, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done so a long time ago.”

 

She gave a hiccupy laugh, despite herself. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

 

“You’re worried about me blackmailing you? Manipulating you?” Now, Widow laughed. “How would that even work, Sombra? I don’t have any of my own goals. I have no reason to manipulate you. You would sacrifice anything and anyone for your own goals. That makes you very difficult to blackmail.”

 

“You’re right, I guess,” Sombra said. Widow put her hand on her back. Sombra stiffened and then slowly relaxed.

 

“And I don’t know why you told me,” she said. “But you did. And you did for some reason. You may be very stupid, Sombra, but you don’t really do stupid things.”

 

“Right again.” Sombra looked up at Widow, brushing her hair from her face. “I miss them, I guess,” she said after a moment. “I left things weird with them. And normally whenever I started dating someone, I would get to gossip about them with Patricia.”

 

Widow smiled. “What would the gossip about me be, then?”

 

“Patricia would say a lot about how you’re too hot for me and then tell me that ballet is bullshit.”

 

“I like her already.” Sombra laughed again, and Widow noted that her breathing had slowed to normal. She rubbed small circles on her back and Sombra leaned into her.

 

“I’m not asking you to tell me everything,” she said. Sombra nodded. “I know where we are. Just give me what you think I need.”

 

“You want to meet them,” Sombra said. Widow shrugged.

 

“I meant what I said. What you think is important.”

 

“I want to see them again,” Sombra stated. “And they’re important. You should meet them.” Widow smiled and kissed her temple.

 

“I’d like that.”

 

-

 

And that was how Widow ended up at the event space of the Dorado branch of some chain hotel, being jostled by tweens, drowning her sorrows in mediocre Long Island iced teas.

 

“It’s Alejandra’s Bat Mitzvah,” Sombra said. She was quite obviously struggling to keep from laughing at Widow’s face. “She’s becoming a woman. I’d say this is, like, the most important.”

 

“I changed my mind,” Widow muttered. “I am definitely going to kill you.” Sombra laughed and hopped up, pulling Widow out of her seat.

 

“Come on, ballerina,” she said as she dragged Widow to the floor. There was a cheap synth beat and despite everything, Widow found herself smiling at how raw Sombra looked in the pink spotlights. “Time for me to show you how to dance.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sombra: Hey Gabe can you make me two of the most middle America mall dresses imaginable?
> 
> I'm @tacticalgrandma on tumblr if you want to talk to me there.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and any comments/kudos would mean the world to me!


End file.
